Camels bearing enormous loads went along with parched
throats until they could find the bitter margosa leaves—since
they avoid tender greenery—and were thirsty again after
chewing them, like men who look only for wine to quench
their thirst, which again produces more thirst. Sturdy menfolk
bore on their shoulders gifts and supplies for the journey.
Brahmins who practised austerities followed, remaining
aloof, afraid alike to walk amongst the elephants, for fear of
being jostled, and in the areas where there were women,
who might distract their inner vision. Some hopped along
lightly on their toes, in order not to trample on any live creature on the ground;
others held their fingers over their
nostrils, both to perform breath control and to keep the
fingers from touching their nether portions while their minds
were fixed on God.
The noise of the rolling chariot wheels, trumpets, and
drums, and the general din, made it impossible for anyone to
hear what anyone else was saying. After a while people
moved along dumbly, communicating with each other only by
signs, their feet raising an enormous trail of dust. Bullocks
drawing wagons loaded with baggage, excited by the noise
of drums, suddenly snapped off their yokes and ran helter-
skelter, adding to the melee, leaving the baggage scattered
on the road. Elephants, when they noticed a tank or a pond,
charged away for a plunge, and remained submerged in the
water up to their white tusks. Musicians sat on horseback
playing their instruments and singing.
Behind this army, the king's favourites in the women's
apartments followed. Surrounded by a thousand attendants,
Queen Kaikeyi came in her palanquin. Next came Sumithra,
accompanied by two thousand attendants. Surrounded by
her own musicians came Kausalya, mother of Rama. She
had also in her company several dwarfs and hunchbacks
and other freaks. But her main companions were sixty
thousand women of great beauty and accomplishment who
followed her in a variety of vehicles. In a white palanquin
studded with pearls, sage Vasishtha, chief mentor at thecourt, followed, surrounded by two thousand brahmins and priests. Bharatha and Sathrugna, also younger brothers of
Rama, came next. Dasaratha, after performing his daily
duties and religious rites and presentation of gifts to
brahmins, started to leave his palace at an auspicious
conjunction of the planets, ushered by a number of priests,
men bearing in their arms golden pots filled with holy waters
which they sprinkled on his path, while several women
recited hymns.
When the King emerged from his palace, many rulers from
the neighbouring states were waiting to greet him. Conch
and trumpets were sounded, and loud cheering and the
recital of honours, when his carriage began to move.
After journeying for a distance of two yojanas, the King
with his army and followers camped in the shadow of Mount
Saila. Next day the camp moved on to a grove beside a
river.
The forward portions of the advance party, which had
already reached Mithila, were received and absorbed into
homes, palaces, and camps in the capital. As further
contingents kept coming in, they too were received. The line
of movement was continuous from Ayodhya to Mithila. King
Dasaratha's party was the last to arrive. When the scouts
who watched for their arrival flew back on horses to report
that Dasaratha's party had been sighted, Janaka went forthwith his ministers and officials and guards of honour to receive him. The two kings met, greeted each other,
exchanged polite formalities; then Janaka invited Dasaratha
to get into his own chariot and proceeded towards the
capital. While they were entering the gates of the city, Rama,
accompanied by Lakshmana, met them, greeted his father,
and welcomed him. Dasaratha swelled with pride at the
sight of his son, whose stature seemed so much grander
now.
At this point Kamban begins to describe the preparations
for the wedding of Rama and Sita. It is one of the most
fascinating sections of the epic. The details of the wedding
pavilion; the decorations; the arrival of guests from other
countries; the flowers and gaiety; the citizens' joy and
participation; the activities in the bride's house and then at
the bridegroom's, and the preparation of the bride and
bridegroom themselves: their clothes and jewellery, the
moods they were in—all are described by Kamban in minute
detail, running to several thousand lines of poetry.
At an auspicious conjunction of the planets suitable to the
horoscopes of Rama and Sita, in ceremonials conducted by
the high priests of Mithila and Ayodhya in Janaka's court,
Rama and Sita became man and wife.
"Those who were together only a little while ago came
together again, and there was no need for any elaborate
ritual of speech between them," says Kamban, describing the couple's first meeting at the conclusion of the wedding ceremonies.
Through Janaka's efforts, Rama's three brothers were
also found brides and were married at the same time, in
Mithila. When the celebrations ended, King Dasaratha
started back for Ayodhya, with his sons bringing home their
wives. On the day they left, Viswamithra told Dasaratha,
"Now I return to you Rama and Lakshmana. Their
achievements are immeasurable, but there is much more
ahead. They are blessed men." Then he took leave of them
and abruptly left northward. He was retiring into the
Himalayas, away from all activities, to spend the rest of his
days in contemplation.